behavior. You asked what he was doing in the Alps, Mademoiselle Bouchet. I can only guess. You see, Jules suffered a great deal.' 'Was he ill?' Skye said.
'No, but he was a sensitive man who loved art and literature. He should have been born into another family. Jules had problems being part of a family whose members were known as 'Merchants of Death.' '
'That's understandable,' Austin said. 'We've been called worse, monsieur. Believe me. In one of those ironies of fate, Jules was a natural businessman. He was devious and his behind-the-scenes schemes would have done credit to a Machiavelli Our family company prospered under his hand.'
'That image doesn't seem to fit with what you've told me about his gentle character.'
'Jules hated the violence that was implicit in the wares he sold. But he reasoned that if we didn't make and sell arms, someone else would. He was a great admirer of Alfred Nobel. Like Nobel, he used much of the family fortune to promote peace. He saw himself as a balance of natural forces.'
'Something must have unbalanced him.'
She nodded. 'We believe it was the prospect of World War One. Pompous and ignorant leaders started the war, but it is no secret that they were pushed over the precipice by the arms merchants.' 'Like the Fauchards and the Krupps?'
'The Krupps are arrivistes,' she said, wrinkling her nose as if she smelled something rotten. 'They were nothing but glorified coal miners, parvenus who built their fortunes on the blood and sweat of others. The Fauchards had been in the arms business for centuries before the Krupps surfaced in the Middle Ages. What do you know about our family, Mr. Austin?'
'Mostly that you're as secretive as an oyster.' Madame Fauchard laughed. 'When you're dealing with arms, secrecy is not a dirty word. However, I prefer to use the word discreet.' She angled her head in thought then rose from her chair. 'Please come with me. I'll show you something that will tell you more about the Fauchards than a thousand words.'
She guided them along the corridor to a set of tall arched doors emblazoned with a three-headed-eagle emblem in black steel.
'This is the chateau's armory,' she said, as they stepped through the doorway. 'It is the heart and soul of the Fauchard empire.'
They were in an immense chamber whose walls soared to high, ribbed ceilings. The room seemed to be laid out in the shape of a cathedral. They were standing in a long, column-lined nave that was crossed by a transept, with the altar section behind it. The nave was lined with alcoves, but instead of statues of saints, the niches contained weapons apparently grouped according to time period. More armor and weapons could be seen on a second level that wrapped around the perimeter of the room.
Directly in front of them, caught in mid charge were four lifelike knights and their huge stuffed mounts, all in full armor, lances extended as if defending the armory from interlopers.
Skye surveyed the array with a professional eye. 'The scope and extent of this collection is breathtaking.'
Madame Fauchard went over and stood next to the mounted knights. 'These were the army tanks of their day,' she said. 'Imagine yourself as a poor infantryman, armed only with a lance, who sees these gentlemen bearing down on you at full gallop.' She smiled, as if relishing the prospect.
'Formidable,' Skye said, 'but not invincible as weapons and tactics advanced. The longbow had arrows that could puncture some armor at long range. A halberd could penetrate armor and a two-handed cutting sword of war could dispatch a knight if he could be
pulled off his horse. All their armor would have been useless against firearms.'
'You have hit upon the heart of our family's success. Every development in weaponry would eventually be overcome with more advanced weaponry. Mademoiselle sounds as if she knows what she's talking about,' Madame Fauchard said, raising a finely arched brow.
'My brother made a hobby of ancient weapons. I couldn't help learning from him.'
'You learned well. Every piece in here was produced by the Fauchard family. What do you think of our family's artistry?'
Skye examined the display in the nearest alcove and shook her head. 'These helmets are primitive but extremely well made. Perhaps more than two thousand years old.'
'Bravo! They were produced in pre-Roman times.'
'I didn't know the Fauchards went back that far,' Austin said.
'I wouldn't be surprised if someone discovered a cave drawing of a Fauchard making a flint spearhead for a Neolithic client.'
'This chateau is quite a leap in time and geography from a Neolithic cave.'
'We have come a long way since our humble beginnings. Our family were armorers based in Cyprus, a crossroad of the commerce in the Mediterranean. The Crusaders arrived to build outposts on the island and they admired our craftsmanship. It was the custom of wealthy nobles to retain household armorers. My ancestors moved to France and eventually organized a number of craftsmen's guilds. The guild families intermarried and formed alliances with two other families.'
'Hence the three eagles on your coat of arms?'
'You're quite observant, Monsieur Austin. Yes, but in time the other families were marginalized and the Fauchards eventually dominated the business. They controlled different specialty shops and sent agents throughout Europe. There was no end to the demand,
from the Thirty Years War to Napoleon. The Franco-Prussian War was lucrative and set the stage for World War One.' 'Which brings us full circle to your great-uncle.' She nodded. 'Jules became morose as war seemed inevitable. By then we had grown into a cartel of arms and took on the name of Spear Industries. He tried to persuade our family to pull out of the arms race, but it was too late. As Lenin said at the time, Europe was like a barrel of gunpowder.'
'Which needed only the assassination of the Grand Duke Ferdinand to provide a spark.'
'The Grand Duke was a lout,' she said, with a wave of her long fingers. 'His death was less a spark than an excuse. The international arms industry had interlocking agreements and patents. Every bullet fired or bomb exploded by either side meant shared profits for the owners and stockholders. The Krupps made money from German deaths and Spear Industries from the death of French soldiers. Jules foresaw this would be the situation and the fact that he was ultimately responsible is probably what unhinged him.' 'Another casualty of the war?'
'My great-uncle was an idealist. His passion brought him a premature and senseless death. The sad part of all this is that his death made no more difference than some poor soldier being gassed in the trenches. Only a few decades later, our leaders dragged us into another world war. Fauchard's factories were bombed to dust, our workers killed. We rapidly recouped our losses in the Cold War. But the world has changed.'
'It was still a pretty dangerous place the last time I looked,' Austin said.
'Yes, the weapons are more deadly than ever, but conflicts are more regional and shorter in length. Governments, like your own, have replaced the major arms dealers. Since I inherited the leadership of Spear Industries, we have divested our factories and we're essentially
a holding company that subcontracts for goods and services. With the fear of rogue nations and terrorists, our business remains steady.'
'An amazing story,' Austin said. 'Thank you for being so forthcoming with your family history.'
'Back to the present,' she said, with a nod of her head. 'Mr. Austin, what are the prospects of retrieving the plane that you found in the lake?'
'It would be a delicate job, but not impossible for a competent salvager. I can recommend a few names, if you'd like.'
'Thank you very much. We'd like to retrieve any property that is rightfully ours. Do you plan on returning to Paris today?' 'That was our intention.'
'Bien. I'll show you the way out.'
Madame Fouchard led them along a different corridor whose walls were covered with hundreds of portraits. She paused in front of a painting of a man in a long leather coat.
'This is my great-uncle Jules Fauchard,' Madame Fauchard said.
The man in the painting had an aquiline nose and a mustache and stood in front of a plane similar to the one
